


Actions Speak Louder

by Chessapeake



Category: Lizzie Bennet Diaries
Genre: Drinking & Talking, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-05
Updated: 2013-06-03
Packaged: 2017-12-07 12:51:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/748707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chessapeake/pseuds/Chessapeake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This began as a one-shot, but it will have a few chapters. </p><p>In which William and Lizzie live together in San Francisco and have meaningful conversations where the words aren't very important..</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Evening

The elevator doors opened to their penthouse apartment. Lizzie kicked her shoes into the hall closet with a vengeance. “Lizzie! You’re going to damage the wall.” She rolled her eyes at him, but he could only see her back as she headed to their bedroom.

Things had been... tense. William was in the middle of an acquisition of a company based on the east coast, a move he was hoping would broaden Pemberley’s base, but the company was dragging its feet. Lizzie had a new project in the works, but it seemed that the money just wasn’t coming together and one of her assistants broke their leg, not anyone’s fault, but frustrating and throwing a huge wrench in her plans.

He pulled at his tie and followed his girlfriend. She was slipping on an old comfortable tshirt. As he went to the closet to put away his tie, he noticed her nylons on the floor just shy of the hamper. He sighed and put them in.

“What!”

He turned, “What?”

“You made that sigh. I didn’t miss the hamper on purpose.”

“Lizzie,” he tried very hard to keep the strain from his voice, “I know you didn’t. It’s just been a long day and I don’t like it when there’s clothes on the floor.”

She didn’t respond. He finished unbuttoning his shirt and changed into a more comfortable pair of cashmere sweatpants and a tshirt his sister had bought for him. By the time he went into the kitchen, Lizzie was going through the mail and logging onto her laptop. He turned on their espresso machine.

“How was your day?” she asked from her perch on the table.

“Frustrating. How was yours?”

“The same.”

Neither of them supplied further information and neither of them asked. Silence reigned aside from the sounds of his coffee and her keyboard. He took his finished drink and sat in his favorite chair with his own computer. Suddenly, her head popped up to look at him. “None for me?”

Why didn’t she ever ask for these things when he was in a position to actually do something about it. “I didn’t know you wanted any. Do you?”

A sigh, “No, I’ll make some in a minute.”

He shifted his laptop with a slight moan and stood to bring her his coffee. “I said I’d make some in a minute.”

“Just take mine.” He offered his mug.

“No, it’s yours, I’ll make my own.”

“Why? Have this one.”

“I don’t want yours.”

“Take it, I’ll make another one.”

“No, I’ll get my own!” she got up and dodged his extended arm, heading to the machine. He gave up and shuffled back to his laptop and chair.

She banged around making her coffee. He allowed himself to relax and surf the internet, maybe mindless browsing would help his cloudy mood. He didn’t know how much time passed, but the last sip of his coffee was cold when his stomach growled.

He glanced into the kitchen. Lizzie was pounding away on her keyboard, now sitting cross-legged on the counter next to the espresso machine. “What do you want to do for dinner?” He called.

It was a moment before she answered, “I’ll order something. What do you want?”

“Whatever you want to order is fine.”

“Just tell me what you want.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“You’re the one who’s hungry!”

“Exactly, so I’ll eat whatever you order, just order something!”

“God, William! I’m busy! I’m not your house-wife, just pick something!”

He laid his head back and took a deep breath. “What’s wrong?”

It was the genuine care in his voice that made her stop typing her furious email. She was able to stay her fingers, but she couldn’t keep her mind from the subject matter. “With Candace out of the office, we double booked investor meetings and now Christina wants to keep the Heartfield Group at that time and move the Cleary Foundation but--” she sighed in exasperation. “But I got a call today that the Cleary Foundation is considering pulling out of the project all together and I don’t want to piss them off and she’s being stupid and...” She made a face and threatening gesture at her laptop.

He came to the edge of the kitchen area and looked at her. “You know...” she kept typing her email as he spoke, “I was a little surprised that you didn’t come to Pemberley for some support.”

“Why would I come to Pemberley?”

“Because you know we’d back you.”

“I don’t want your charity, William, I can do this on my own.”

“Clearly.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” She looked up, but he was already heading back to his big fancy chair with his big fancy laptop.

“Nothing.”

“No!” she got up and followed him, “No, what does that mean? You don’t think I can do this?”

“Of course you can do this, Lizzie, but why would you not use all the resources you have available to you? You’re looking for backers, why not start with someone you know will have your back? Why won’t you let me help you?” His voice had risen only a minor fraction, but it was a degree she registered.

“Help me like you helped me move to San Francisco? Help me like you gave the poor, starving grad student a place to live? You’re not my savior, William Darcy, I don’t need you to save me!”

“Oh don’t throw that in my face, we got this place together! We-”

“Together? This place is one-hundred percent you. Look!” She turned around to the wall behind her. “ _Your_ fancy art!” A stack of records on the coffee table were picked up and slammed back down in disorder, “ _Your_ pretentious music!” She strode over to the countertop where his mail-organizer was and grasped a fist-full of envelopes, “ _Your_ name on the fucking rent!”

“My credit is better than yours! What, you want me to change that fact? I can’t do that, I’m sorry!”

She turned on her heel and went back to the kitchen. He followed her. “What are you doing?” She didn’t answer, she just grabbed a bottle of wine from the rack and a glass from the cupboard. She went to the bedroom and shut the door. Hard.

She turned on their television-- _his_ television-- and poured a very large glass of white wine. She didn’t really know what she was watching, but it was noise and it was something to look at. And the wine helped a lot.

As she laid on their bed, he found his bottle of scotch and poured a glass of his own, returning to his chair. He also turned on the tv, but instead of mindlessly viewing whatever was on, he turned to CNN and tried to engage his brain in the story. He wasn’t very successful, but the scotch helped a lot.

She finished her first glass of wine and decided to change the channel. Once she started clicking, she couldn’t really stop. A million stations and nothing to watch. Why did they even have cable? Oh... It was because she loved Project Runway. She and Jane used to watch it together and it made her feel close to her sister. William had watched a few episodes with her. He used to help her make fun of the lame designs and always picked one he’d like to see her in. Where the hell was he anyways? He should be in here apologizing to her. She poured another glass.

He was in the other room, finishing his scotch and opening his laptop again. He noticed the icon telling him there was a cd in the drive, so he opened it to see what he’d forgotten in there. The disc was a homemade cd with sharpie written in a bright shade of red. ‘ _Makes Me Think Of You_ ’. It was a mix Lizzie had given him. When was that? Oh... his birthday. She had bought him a very nice set of pens, but wanted to give him something “from her heart”. They were mostly mainstream hits, but a couple of classics and even some independent bands. She’d asked him to put it in and they danced together in the kitchen. Why the hell was she still in the bedroom anyway? She hated being alone for too long. He poured another scotch.

The intercom buzzed almost an hour later. Lizzie stood and walked to the door... sort of. She needed to get food in her to soak up some of the three glasses of wine she’d had. As she reached the front hallway, Darcy was already buzzing up the delivery guy. She stood behind him and crossed her arms, unwilling to yield any ground. He turned and looked at her. There was something... he was leaning a little on the wall. Her Darcy doesn’t lean.

He was hoping she wouldn’t notice how much he was relying on the wall. What he noticed was her stance. It was a little wide and a little wobbly. He was thankfully much better at holding his liquor, it was true, but her wine was a lot less potent than his $200 scotch. Tipsy or not, Lizzie was obviously still angry with him for god-only-knows-what reason. Well he wasn’t about to just let her treat him like her punching bag.

The pair opened their mouths and spoke at the same time, with the same amount of a slight slur:

“I-I ordered a pizza.”

“I gottus Indian.”

She gaped. “You ordered a pizza?”

He nodded and furrowed his brow, “I thought you didn’t like Indian.” The elevator dinged and opened to two delivery guys, looking slightly confused. Lizzie paid for her Indian and he paid for the pizza. When the strangers left, they faced each other. Without a word, they traded the food in their arms and made their way to the living room to deposit the box and bag.

Lizzie sat down, a little heavily, and picked up the bottle of scotch. “Omigod, how many glasses did you have?” When he didn’t answer fast enough, she leaned forward and inhaled. “Omigod, you’re _drunk_.”

“I am not drunk.” His spine straightened to prove it, “You, on the other hand...” he reached forward and gave a slight push on her shoulder. She bobbled like a toddler’s toy, but regained her upright position.

“Oh yeah?” She pushed at his shoulders.

He didn’t know if it was her balance that threw them off or if it was his, but somehow they collided, tipped over, and landed together on the floor in between the couch and the coffee table. For a brief and terrible moment, Darcy looked into her eyes and saw absolutely nothing. He was shocked, she was shocked. They were lying on the floor in each other’s arms and for the first time didn’t know how to behave in that position. She was still upset with him, surely.

She searched his face and found nothing but his own search in response. Their t-shirts had moved to expose the skin and he felt warm against her. Which reminded her that he was drinking. They were drunk on the floor and no one was naked. That might have been the most hilarious thing she’d heard all day. She threw back her head and laughed.

He didn’t realize he was laughing too until his abs started to hurt a little bit. Maybe there was a little more scotch in him than he had admitted to himself. Maybe it was just that he hadn’t eaten anything since lunch and the clock was inching towards eight. Maybe it was just her.

Lizzie wriggled out of his arms and made her half-upright way to the bedroom and returned with a very much depleted wine bottle. He sat on the floor against the couch, clutching his own alcoholic beverage. She joined him.

They were quiet as the sun’s lingering shadows began to fade and were replaced by the lights of the city. Darcy took a sip of scotch straight from the bottle. What the hell happened to the man he used to be? “I don’t care if we don’t acquire the east coast corporation.”

“The board?”

“Yeah.”

She took a swallow from her wine. It must frustrate him to be in charge of something he wasn’t passionate about. They must be dictating to him all the things he needed to do and needed not to do and he couldn’t go about the acquisition in the way he wanted... no wonder he was upset at the things she’d said. She opened her mouth to comfort him. “I don’t think we’ll be able to get the project off the ground.” What? Where did that come from, that wasn’t at all what she wanted to say.

“The investors?”

“Yeah.”

“Why don’t you make it into a competition? Have the meeting with both Heartfield and Cleary and show them that they aren’t the only parties involved... see how fast they jump.”

He drank again. “Wow,” she looked at him. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

He shrugged. “You would have eventually.”

As she drank, she shook her head, spilling a little on her chin. “I wouldn’t. You were right, I should’ve come to you first. You have all this knowledge and Pemberley has capital...”

“I don’t want to make your business my business.” She looked at him as he took a sip. “No, really. I know what you’re capable of and as much as I want to do everything in my power to make your life easier, I would hate myself if I knew I was stealing even an ounce of your thunder.”

For a brief moment, their eyes met. She whispered, “I know.”

For the first time that evening, the pause between them was comfortable. Their shoulders rubbed together each time they lifted a bottle to their lips. The food they purchased cooled on the coffee table, but they didn’t notice or care. It was an intimate silence. The kind of dim quiet that was perfect for a confession. The alcohol helped it ease out of her,

“I’ve always wanted to get married.”

“What?”

Her cheeks burned, but she plowed on. “I always wanted the fairy tale. I grew up a Disney Princess kind of girl.”

“But in your videos...”

“When I got to college I started to study the feminist movement and.. I felt like a traitor. My mom was so gung-ho about it.. and..” She distracted herself by swirling the remaining wine she held.

“I came to terms with the fact that you probably wouldn’t want to get married.”

“You... when?”

“I don’t know.. Sometime around when you moved it. I figured that this was going to be the... the...” He frowned at the scotch who betrayed him with the theft of coherent thought.

“Epitome?” He tipped the neck of the scotch towards her. She swallowed again before continuing. “It can be. But it doesn’t have to be.” She quickly looked at him. “Oh God, whatever you do, do _not_ propose while we’re both drunk, I will never forgive you.”

“I am not drunk.”

“You liar.”

“I’m not!”

“Stand up, right now.”

He set down his drink and rose to his feet. Suddenly, San Francisco experienced a historic earthquake and his head evolved in a manner independent of his body. The couch was inexplicably underneath him. He could hear her laugh from very far away. It suddenly moved closer and she was on top of him.

****

**_To Be Continued..._ **


	2. The Night - The Holiday

_He set down his drink and rose to his feet. Suddenly, San Francisco experienced a historic earthquake and his head evolved in a manner independent of his body. The couch was inexplicably underneath him. He could hear her laugh from very far away. It suddenly moved closer and she was on top of him._

_**** _

“See? You, Mr. Darcy, are drunk.”

He pulled his arms up and around her little frame. “So are you, Miss Bennet. Are you going to take advantage of me while I’m drunk?”

She snorted but laid down to press her cheek to his collarbone. Her forehead fit snuggly in the curve of his neck and they both breathed sighs. He traced little lines along her arm with the tips of his fingers, causing little goosebumps wherever he touched. “You’re so soft.”

She chuckled. “The organic lotion Gigi bought me.”

“No.” His voice was low, soft, and very serious. “It’s you. You were this soft the first time I touched you.”

Without a word, they communicated. He shifted his torso and she slid upwards. They were face to face on the couch with the moon and lights outside providing a soft glow.

She kissed his chin as his fingers ran through her hair. They touched and felt and kissed and caressed. None of these sensations were new, but were well-worn with the knowledge and intimacy of time shared. Lizzie freed herself of her top and helped him do the same. They pressed together and just indulged in the feelings of skin-on-skin.

“I’m so sorry,” She whispered into his shoulder.

“Not half as sorry as I am.” He murmured to her hair. He pulled back slightly and kissed her deep and full on the mouth. She parted her lips and slid her tongue along his, giving him a sweet taste of wine. Her leg started to pull up and around his hip. He responded with a hand running up the length of her thigh.

Just as they started to rock in a smooth rhythm together, her stomach let out a loud and obtuse growl. The magical sparkle in the air evaporated and they separated. The room was dark, the food was cold, they were intoxicated and hungry and half naked. As they looked at each other, a slight smile pulled at their lips. She pecked a kiss to the tip of his nose and struggled to sit up.

It was a team effort, getting their unresponsive bodies to the kitchen with their food. He took their dinner to the microwave and she fumbled with grabbing two large bottles of water. He handed her reheated pizza and she inhaled the greasy goodness. “You remembered my pizza toppings.”

He shrugged. “You remembered my favorite Indian.”

“I forget nothing.”

“You’re going to forget tonight,” he scoffed.

“We’re both going to be a lot more sober-er in a minute.”

“Your drunk grammar is terrible.”

In response, she plunked herself on the floor and started eating her pizza. As soon as the microwave counted all the way down, he joined her.

“I love you, William.” She dropped her head on his shoulder. “More than I ever thought I would.”

“I love you too, Elizabeth.”

“God, you’re a sappy drunk.”

****

*/*/*/*

****

Lizzie didn’t forget that night. Well, that wasn’t entirely true, in reality she forgot almost everything about that night except for the one glaring fact that she’d told William something she’d revealed to no one else.

Her physical hangover didn’t last more than a few hours, but the emotional hangover was much worse. Their next date night, she eyed her drink and dessert suspiciously. She started casually inspecting William’s usual hiding spots. Soon his birthday came around and she panicked when in the middle of all the fancy hullabaloo and guests, he knelt to tie his shoe. She was going to go crazy.

Thanksgiving was loud and distracting for her, surrounded by family and catching up with the people she loved most. As Christmas approached, she was excited for all the enjoyment the holiday meant. But all that excitement turned around with one shopping trip with Gigi.

“So are you done with your shopping?”

“Almost, I need something for my mom and... I got William a nice silver-polishing-kit-thing for his watch but I think I want to get him something else too.”

Gigi was studying a dress and muttered, “Like a wife?”

Lizzie’s head snapped around, “What?”

“What? Life! Get him a life... besides... work. Because he’s always working!” She laughed uncomfortably and held up the dress, “Do you like this color? I can’t make up my mind about how I feel about it, I mean, it’s nice but maybe it’s a little too bright, you know?”

“Gigi...” She zeroed in on her friend, “Gigi, what do you know? Tell me!”

“Nothing!”

Lizzie’s face shouted her disbelief.

“No, I’m serious. I’ve been badgering William for months about it, but he just... I’m sorry, Lizzie, please don’t tell him I said something to you, I really don’t know anything.”

Lizzie let Gigi off the hook after that, but spent the rest of the holiday season entirely on edge. Christmas for the two of them was in the cabin near Lake Tahoe. Gigi was celebrating with some cousins of theirs overseas and William had asked if they could have a holiday to themselves. She'd nervously agreed. The cold and snow lent itself to evenings snuggled together by a roaring fire, hot chocolate and general romance. But Christmas Eve she found herself more jumpy than ever.

“Are you ok?”

“What? Yeah, why?”

“Because I just said a phrase from A Christmas Carol and you didn’t finish the line. What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing. I’m just... tired and not feeling well.”

“Are you coming down with a cold? I think I have some theraflu somewhere.”

She let him rummage around in the kitchen for a while before calling him back to the couch. “It’s alright, I’ll be fine.”

Darcy put a record on his vintage record player. _‘Have yourself a merry little Christmas...’_

Lizzie’s eyes widened as he came over to join her. “I found this in a small second hand shop a few weeks ago. Do you like it? It’s Judy Garland herself.”

She stared at him with a look of... almost trepidation. “Yes... it’s-it’s very nice. Is this my Christmas gift?”

He smiled at her, “It’s part of it.” For a moment they both just stared at the fire crackling before them.

“Well you know, it’s after midnight so it technically is Christmas.”

“Are you attempting to forgo the traditional Christmas morning surprise under the tree?”

“I didn’t know you were so bent on tradition.”

Her tone was somehow accusatorial, which threw him a little bit. Christmas was her favorite time of year and she seemed to relish the traditions of the season, with their pomp and fluff. Darcy shrugged his acquiescence and got up from the couch. They both retrieved their gifts from suitcases before coming back to the fire and each other.

She gave her gifts to him first. They were a lovely kit of polishing equipment for his watch as well as an antique straight razor. He didn’t have the heart to tell her he already had one exactly like it, so he made a point to be excited. After his thank you’s, Darcy handed her a red bag.

She tore into the tissue paper and pulled out her gift. “Alice in Wonderland.”

“It’s a first edition. I asked an associate if he knew of any collectors who were looking to part with it and...” she was staring at the gift with a strange expression; it wasn’t happiness or excitement. “You don’t like it.”

“You got me a first edition of Alice in Wonderland.”

“Yes, I was under the impression you liked this book.”

“I do like this book.”

“Then why are you upset?”

“I don’t... I don’t know.”

Darcy touched the back of his hand to her forehead. It was cool. “Are you certain you’re feeling alright?” She got up and went to bed without another word, leaving Darcy bewildered.

****

*/*/*/*

****

Lizzie was ill for the rest of their time together at Christmas. She was always a little grumpy when she was sick, but Darcy had never seen her like this. Her physical symptoms seemed to be minimal, which would’ve lead him to believe they were potentially hormonal except for the fact that the timing was off. Which could only mean one thing.

_“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain once again, we’ll be beginning our descent into Honolulu very shortly. At this time we’d like to ask that you begin stowing your belongings and disposing of your trash with our flight attendants.”_

Pemberley Digital was celebrating the new year in an elaborate way, not that the New Year parties of the past were anything small, but with the acquisition complete and new contacts in the industry to be schmoozed, the corporation was giving everyone a five day vacation in Hawaii. Cognitively he knew this was supposed to be a vacation, but he was certainly feeling the pressure of both a business and personal nature.

Darcy and Lizzie had decided to fly first class instead of charter something private partially to free up some funding and partially because flying privately made Lizzie uncomfortable. He tried to assure her that in modern America the Reign of Terror was not about to begin beheading their wealthy nobility, but she wasn’t amused.

Lizzie woke up in the seat next to him, picked up the kindle from where it was laying on top of her face, and tried to look like she’d been reading the whole time.

“Good book?”

“Mmm.”

“What’s happening in the plot?”

“I regret ever teaching you how to tease.”

Lizzie was looking forward to the trip; it was her first time in Hawaii and she felt reasonably secure in knowing that she would be coming back to the mainland with a ring on her left hand. After “the scare” at Christmas, she’d done a lot of soul-searching. It wasn’t untrue, that confession she’d drunkenly made to him, but she had spent a lot of time convincing herself it was. Once she discovered how amazingly disappointed she was at not receiving a proposal at Christmas, she admitted the truth to herself and looked forward to being William’s wife.

And what place could be more perfect for a proposal that Hawaii? There would be a fancy New Years party, complete with ball-gown and tux, and plenty of opportunity for stolen kisses under the stars without the fear of any frostbite. It was perfect and she couldn’t wait.


	3. The New Year

Lizzie was ill for the rest of their time together at Christmas. She was always a little grumpy when she was sick, but Darcy had never seen her like this. Her physical symptoms seemed to be minimal, which would’ve lead him to believe they were potentially hormonal except for the fact that the timing was off. Which could only mean one thing.

“ _Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain once again, we’ll be beginning our descent into Honolulu very shortly. At this time we’d like to ask that you begin stowing your belongings and disposing of your trash with our flight attendants_.”

Pemberley Digital was celebrating the new year in an elaborate way, not that the New Year parties of the past were anything small, but with the acquisition complete and new contacts in the industry to be schmoozed, the corporation was giving everyone a five day vacation in Hawaii. Cognitively he knew this was supposed to be a vacation, but he was certainly feeling the pressure of both a business and personal nature.

Darcy and Lizzie had decided to fly first class instead of charter something private partially to free up some funding and partially because flying privately made Lizzie uncomfortable. He’d attempted to assure her that in modern America the Reign of Terror was not about to begin beheading their wealthy nobility, but she wasn’t amused.

Lizzie woke up in the seat next to him, picked up the kindle from where it was laying on top of her face, and tried to look like she’d been reading the whole time.

“Good book?”

“Mmm.”

“What’s happening in the plot?”

“I regret ever teaching you how to tease.”

Lizzie was nervous about the trip. After “the scare” at Christmas, she’d done a lot of soul-searching. It wasn’t untrue, that confession she’d drunkenly made to him, but she had spent a lot of time convincing herself it was. After so long, she wasn’t sure she could expect anything from him and they’d never mentioned that night again. He may not even remember.

*/*/*/*

The event coordinator might have been one of the most quiet talkers Darcy had ever encountered. Considering some members of his extended family, that was certainly saying something. He was finally able to ascertain that she needed him to sign off on the final touches to the table clothes in the ballroom, so he went in to peruse them. As he predicted, they were just fine.

Guests were due to arrive in approximately fifteen minutes, according to his pocket watch, and Gigi had texted him not two minutes before saying she and Lizzie were on their way. His girlfriend had still seemed out of sorts, but had improved daily. His resolve to let her come to him in her own time was holding, but only by a thread. Darcys do not sit idly by when things happen and he was no exception.

To occupy himself, he pulled up the notes for the evening's address on his tablet and rehearsed to the empty room. " _Thank whoever does the introduction and_... Good evening, friends and colleagues. On behalf of Pemberley Digital and the Darcy family, welcome. _Pause_. Tonight's gathering is a celebration of new things. We welcome the new year with all its challenges and opportunities. _Exciting opportunities, I should add exciting_. With so much on horizon, we are proud to welcome into the Pemberley family our respected and esteemed colleagues from-"

"You say 'colleague' twice there, you know."

Darcy turned to Lizzie's voice. His face couldn't decide if it wanted to split in a grin or drop open-mouthed; the result was a boyish expression of joyous disbelief. He crossed the ballroom to her in a few quick strides. "You look ravishing."

Lizzie gave him a quick kiss in greeting and turned to let him enjoy the view. "Thank you. It's all Gigi and Jane, though. I don't know what I would do without them." Her dress was glittering gold flowing from one shoulder to the floor at an asymmetrical angle. Her hair gathered at the opposite shoulder in a curled and elaborate up-do.  

She was genuinely grinning for the first time in a while. She could read the relief on his face and made a mental note to buck up. So he forgot about a drunken confession from months ago, big deal. William was committed to her and she to him. She had no reason to long for a shiny rock on one hand.

And yet...

Gigi blossomed into the room shimmering with excitement. "William this was the best idea you've ever had." The siblings embraced and she pulled out her cell phone. "Instagram!" She pulled Lizzie and her brother in close for a group shot. William looked uncomfortable.

Lizzie laughed and took his hand. "We should be ready to greet everyone." The trio stepped to the other side of the grand doorway.

A waiter swooped in carrying flutes of golden champagne. As soon as the two girls had each taken a glass, William snatched them up and placed them back on the tray.

"We should... Wait until later and everyone's arrived and been served." Lizzie noted his chin tucking back towards his neck and slid a glance at Gigi. She met her gaze and raised a brow.

At first the guests arrived in a trickle, but soon there was a steady stream of people smiling, shaking hands, paying compliments, and saying thank you. Lizzie played the hostess as best she could. She was never much of one for the gracious and gratuitous bowing and waving, but she'd worked out a rhythmfor herself at these gala events. Will was never far from her side and she found herself quite capable of following his lead when a new face came her way.

When the group was assembled in a rather orderly fashion, Lizzie took William's arm and followed him to the head table where Gigi already sat with various VIPs. CFO and already a few of drinks into the open bar, John Middleton, threw his arm around her as she approached. "William Darcy, you old dog, when are you going to make an honest woman out of this one?"

"Maybe it's not him," Augusta Elton, fresh of her third divorce, leaned over; giving everyone an eyeful and pointedly staring at John. "Maybe _honest_ isn't the way she wants to go."

Lizzie gave an attempt at a polite chuckle before extracting herself and seeking the safety of Will's side. His face was redder than she'd ever seen and a little vein pulsed on the side of his head. As their plates arrived, she put a hand on his. "It'll be ok."

He didn't answer, but flagged down the head waiter and hissed in his ear. She guessed their table wouldn't be seeing any more alcohol that night. She was right.

William's speech was, as usual, flawless. She knew he hated giving them, but his incessant practicing certainly paid off. There was music and dancing afterwards as the hours ticked by to midnight. She somehow still hadn't had a drop of champagne, but neither had he. She supposed it was wise to be the most sober people in the room.  They'd lost the close shadow of Gigi on the dance floor with a couple of young newcomers from the acquisition. Her brother strangely didn't show a lot of concern and instead made sure Lizzie took a break every few songs. He was carefully attentive to her. Finally, when he brought her yet another glass of water and suggested they step out into the garden for some fresh air, it dawned on her. It was twenty minutes to midnight. Her stomach fizzed into a jittery state. It was happening. It was finally happening.

The air was cool and clear out amongst the little walking garden. She silently sipped her water and decided to let him have his moment. There would be time for further discussion later. He led her to a bench and looked intently at her.

"How are you feeling?"

Well that wasn't a very romantic opener. "I'm feeling... Good." She gave him a sweet smile for encouragement. "And how are you feeling?"

"Better I think. Now that the difficult part of the evening is over." And proposing was going to be a piece of cake? She didn't want him to suffer but still, that seemed a little offensive.

A waiter approached cautiously. "Pardon the interruption, but it's almost midnight, I thought you might want these." She offered two glasses.

"Thank you!" Lizzie took them

"Ahh.." Will looked uneasy. "Are you sure? We don't need alcohol to celebrate do we?"

"Um. Are you ok?"

"Yes of course I am, I just," he reached for her flute, "do we really need these?"

"Are we paying by the glass or something?"

"We need to start thinking about our health."

"One glass of champagne?" She continued to stretch her hand out of his reach.

"You never know-"

"What's the matter with-"

"You shouldn't drink when you're pregnant, Lizzie! Please."


	4. The Ending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're finally at the end! 
> 
> Sorry it took so long. Fuzzy feels ahead, guys.

"You shouldn't drink when you're pregnant, Lizzie! Please."

Her jaw dropped. She didn't even care when he successfully took the champagne. "Ex-excuse me?"

He stared at the ground. "I know. You have to believe I'd suspect. I wanted to wait until you came to me first but, I just..." The rest of the sentence dropped to his feet as he met her gaze.

"You... How..." The range of emotions on her beautiful face was incredible. She was surprised, definitely. But Darcy could maybe see some anger in the set of her jaw. The look was a softened version of the one she'd given when he first confessed his feelings. She might be laughing a little.

"I began to suspect around thanksgiving. You haven't been feeling well and your emotional state, especially at Christmas, was..." Darcy chose his words with the utmost caution. "Different. And it concerned me. I looked up the early signs for pregnancy and it confirmed what I thought. Darling," he took her hands in his, "I want you to know that I completely support whatever decision you want to make. I have no qualms with becoming a father if that's... What's so funny?"

There was no mistaking her chuckles. They sounded incredulous. "Will, I'm not pregnant!"

The silence thickened as he processed this. "You're not."

"No! At least not to my knowledge, and trust me, you would be the first to know." She patted his hand reassuringly. "I'll take a test tonight if it'll make you feel better. Is that why you've been keeping me from alcohol all night?" He handed over the glass sheepishly. "Besides," she stood to her feet, "does this body look pregnant to you?"

His gaze was appreciative as he looked her up and down. "Not a bit."

"That's what I thought." She snuggled into his lap. "I'm sorry I led you to think that. I have been a little emotional lately."

"What's bothering you? Why haven't you said anything?" He made a conciliatory effort to open up to her as much as he could. Why hadn't she returned the favor?

Lizzie looked down and picked at her dress. She was never embarrassed to tell him things. But this was huge. This was putting pressure on him, pressure he didn't need or want. "I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but I can't tell you."

"Can't or won't?"

Damn him and his intimate knowledge of her thought process! "Don't be mad..."

Nothing could have prepared her for the face she would see when she looked up. He wasn't mad, far from it. He looked utterly defeated and heartbroken.

"Lizzie?" His voice caught as he whispered her name. "There are still things you keep from me?"

Oh god. She felt like a tennis ball was growing in her throat. Water threatened from her eyes and she leapt to her feet. "Don't move!" She pressed his shoulders down and met his gaze with firm conviction. "I'm coming right back, don't move."

She fled back into the ballroom and instantly collided with Gigi. "Hey! Just who I was--what's wrong?" Lizzie's nose had gone red and she was fanning her misting eyes.

"I'm ok. Honestly, I just- I have to talk to your brother and it's scary and I need some courage!"

"Ten minutes to midnight!" Someone screamed. Gigi looked at Lizzie and slowly nodded her head.

"You're positive you're ok?"

"Positive."

Gigi spun around and with alarming strength, shoved a full grown man out of her way and nearly threw herself over the bar. Lizzie was sure the entire island heard Gigi, "SHOTS! YESTERDAY!"

In a startlingly short amount of time, Lizzie was holding a small platter of eight shots. Gigi added two more champagne flutes to it. Before Lizzie could escape, her friend grabbed her by the shoulders and leaned in close. "I will never forgive him if he hurts you."

Despite the imminent tears, Lizzie smiled, "Because you've put too much work into us?"

"Yes!"

Darcy trusted Lizzie. He trusted her implicitly. She shared a part of his soul, if such a thing could be possible. But his initial reaction to her retreating back as he continued to sit on that bench was panic and grief.

"Pull yourself together, Darcy." He eyed the champagne sitting next to him. He downed both glasses in seconds.

So she wasn't pregnant. Then it was something else of importance to be affecting her for so long. Was it something he'd said or done? A shout from inside reached him. Was that... His sister?

_Lizzie was a lesbian and had used him to get close to Gigi._

He slapped a hand to his forehead. That decided it, no more telenovellas with his girlfriend. No matter how ironically entertaining they were. Besides, he had personal experience to bear witness to how straight she was.

For a moment, his mind mulled over their first morning in Hawaii: the sight of Lizzie in one of his shirts bringing room service to the bed, her hair askew and eyes brightly anticipating more of what they'd already done...

"Oh thank god." The polished, stunning vision of her replaced his earlier one. She carried a tray full of alcoholic choices and hurried to his side, setting the tray on her lap. "You drank both of those?" She jerked her head to the empty flutes and he nodded. "Fine. I get these." She gulped the two full glasses she carried then offered up a ring of shot glasses.

Where was she going with this? He took one. "You can't tell me what's wrong unless I'm slobbering drunk?"

"No, I can't tell you unless _I_ am." She picked one up herself. "Besides, have you ever been 'slobbering' drunk?"

"Fair point." He raised the glass.

"Wait! William Darcy, for my first confession: I don't hate your improv jazz records as much as I tease you that I do. Your turn."

Lizzie: 1 shot.

Darcy raised a brow but played along. "Elizabeth Bennet, I have found I enjoy your little sister's company more than I thought I would."

Darcy: 1 shot.

"I plagiarized a paper for my freshman psychology class. But just the one!"

Lizzie: 2 shots.

"When Fitz came out to me I thought he was playing a prank."

Darcy: 2 shots.

"I'm jealous of Jane's hair."

Lizzie: 3 shots.

"I'm jealous of Bing's social skills."

Darcy: 3 shots.

"I've been driving myself crazy waiting for you to propose."

Lizzie: 4 shots.

The last shot glass hovered by William's lips. He stared at her.

"I'm sorry!" S's were already difficult and everything was fuzzy but she pressed on. "You... Ever since I told you I wanted to get married I've been waiting and waiting and waiting and I thought you were gunna do it at Christmas but you didn't! And I'm pissed you forgot but not really. I'm pissed at myself for not just... Why do I make everything so gaddamm hard?"

He was still silent. His face was unreadable in the scant moonlight and she was sure the shots weren't helping her sight any. She was so good at knowing what he was thinking except when it dealt with her.

A cheer rang out from the ballroom and the strains of "Auld Lang Sine" soon followed. The sound broke the spell on William and with his free hand, he reached into his pocket for a small box. "Why do all my best laid plans go awry with you?"

"You were..."

"I've had this since just after Thanksgiving. I ordered it the day after you told me you wanted to get married and I was ready at Christmas, but-"

"I ruined it."

"Postponed it. I was going to time it at midnight and it was going to be wonderfully romantic."

There was a beat. She had no idea what to do or say, but there was a strange bubbling of emotion in her stomach. "Just... To be clear, this isn't because you thought I was pregnant, right?"

He leveled a look at her with a raised brow. "You know the answer to that."

There was another pause. An overwhelming happiness swept over her. She was done waiting for this. She snatched the last shot out of his hand. "Fuck it!"

Lizzie: 5 shots.

She half bent, half tumbled to kneel in front of him. She took his hands. "William Darcy-"

"Oh no. No, no, no. You are _not_ taking this away from me, Lizzie." He lifted her with little effort back onto the bench. She started to protest. He silenced her with a look. "I have been dreaming of this since that day you first kissed me. Don't take this away."

She started to cry. But she was also smiling, so Darcy took that as a good sign. He knelt in front of her. From inside his breast pocket he pulled out his smartphone and set it up with the kickstand, "On the off chance you don't remember this in the morning." He positioned it just so and started recording.

"My beautiful and wonderful Lizzie, when people look at me, they tend to see either only my youth or only my wealth. What you saw was so much more than that. I was blinded when we first met and thought you were unworthy of me. But time reveals all things and now I know that in truth _I_ am the one unworthy of _you_. You show me everything that is good and beautiful in the world. I am a better man for having you in my life and I will journey to the ends of the earth and back again if it grants just one wish of yours."

He brushed away a few tears near her jawline. "My darling Elizabeth, will you marry me?"

He opened the box to reveal a tastefully-sized gem, bright even in the dim lighting. Lizzie started to giggle through her tears. "Yes." She clasped her hands to his cheeks, "Yes, my wonderful, amazing man, absolutely yes!" She crushed his lips with her own and collapsed into him.

They were entwined in a strange half-sitting, half-lying position and dirtying their clothes when Gigi's voice, full of a clear warning to them sounded, "I'm certain he'll turn up! Thank you for being _so_ patient, sir!"

The pair scrambled to their feet and brushed off some of the more obvious dirt just in time to see Gigi round the corner of the topiary with the president of the acquired company and his wife close behind. "Ah! Here they are. I told you he would never leave without saying his farewells." Her smile was a plastered grin covering some panic in her eyes.

"Mr. Darcy, Miss Bennet, we were just about to take our leave of the evening, it was truly an auspicious event." Darcy took his outstretched hand and Lizzie grasped his wife's.

She shrieked. Lizzie was concerned for a moment until she realized the woman was looking at her hand. How William managed to place the ring on her finger so fast she would never figure out. "Miss Bennet that was not on your hand earlier! I check for these things!"

Gigi squealed and rushed for Lizzie. "You did it! You finally did it!"

"Emma," her husband extracted her hand and smiled at the couple before him, "it appears we've intruded on a private moment. Congratulations, to the both of you."

"Thank you, Mr. Knightley."

Gigi followed them out of the garden, walking backwards, her grin now completely genuine.

Alone again, Darcy turned to her. She was luminescent. He took two steps and folded his fiancé into an embrace. "I love you." She whispered.

He extracted one of her hands and began to sway. Softly, he sang love songs in a sweet baritone to her and they danced till the stars began to fade.

  
  


 

 

 

the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the love, kudos, and comments!


End file.
